How to Love the Hopeless and Apolaustic
by Faerilee Lin
Summary: There is a balance that must be kept consistent throughout life, and Ludwig Beilschmidt understands this better than most after witnessing the fall of his brother. Because of this realization, Ludwig's life is mapped out to the dot, however after crossing paths with a certain Feliciano Vargas, Ludwig must come to accept mistakes in others' as well as his own characters.


Summary: Human AU. There is a balance that must be kept consistent throughout life, and Ludwig Beilschmidt understands this better than most after witnessing the fall of his brother. Because of this realization, Ludwig's life is mapped out to the dot, however after crossing paths with a certain Feliciano Vargas, Ludwig must come to accept mistakes in others' as well as his own characters.

**Overall Story Warnings:** Mentions of non-con, mentions of suicide, abuse/use of alcohol and drugs, sexual themes, and language/slurs.

_**Hidekaz Himaruya owns Hetalia. I not making any money off this fic.**_

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**_Letters from Bed (3rd Letter)- 1618_**

_To My Soldier,_

_Hello, I'm sorry for bothering you again, but it really has been some time since your last reply. Please, may I ask if everything is okay? I have already sent two letters alike to this one, yet you still haven't written back! You know, it is rather mean of you to leave me worrying about you like I am. Even before my bedridden state, my worrying reached a point where I messed up the cleaning even more than usual! Of course, I don't have to worry about cleaning nowadays since I am allowed to spend all my time writing to you!__  
_

_I really am sorry that I am constantly bothering you with my letters, but after what you said before you went off, I've found myself worrying more and more over you. I am sure you are too busy being great in the army all whilst finding your brother, and I know you have good intentions! However, I sometimes wonder whether or not you are not going to come back at all. Some days, I believe that you have forgotten us as the Master said, but do not worry. Other days, I will selfishly remember how happy we all were together under a single roof and worry no more of it!_

_Still, even if it was true that you have forgotten us, I'll make sure to scold you even more in these letters with a lecture similar to yours saying that it is rude of you to have done that, to have forgotten me, I mean._

_In my last letters, I didn't write all of what I had wanted to say because I felt rushed to see you finally write back, but, given the current circumstances, I guess I do have the time now. _

_What I really wanted to say was that I am sorry that I never truly appreciated the presence you held in the house. _

_Excuse my being vague! That explanation sounded a little weird to me when I read over it. _

_What I'm trying to point out are the the small pockets of emptiness I seem to constantly feel. I think the best way to explain the feeling is to alike it to reading the hopeful diary of a young girl, however the pages holding the big parts of her life have been imprudently ripped out!_

_When I asked the Missus, she said that the feeling was called "loneliness" when the feeling is related to a specific person, but I do not think so! I think that word is too sad, and after all, Papa was lonely. I surely cannot be with the Master and Missus!_

_Still, it bothers me, this feeling. Ah, but you do not have to worry about me. I bear it! I know I can be as strong as you, and it is as you said, you cannot come back for a while, right?_

_As for news back at the Master's estate, I've been spending a lot of time in bed instead of cleaning as I have already mentioned. (I'm laughing a little since I am imagining what you would thinking as you read that. Are you scolding me and worrying if the Master is punishing me for not doing the chores? Ah, well, let me tell you that it is for a very good reason!) _

_My bed-ridden state began not too long ago. All I remember of that morning is that suddenly awoke to the Missus' sobbing beside me, and when I asked her what was wrong, she said that I had suddenly collapsed while cleaning the grand hallway. I had slept for days after that. She said that she was worried that maybe God had plucked my soul as I was standing!_

_I do not know if God really would do such a thing. Actually, I am pretty convinced that my collapse is not due to Him, for I have noticed that these last few weeks, I have been getting more and more fatigued to the point where I cannot even walk to the market anymore. What happens is that a peculiar numbing feeling first starts in my head, and the world starts to turn white. I start to pant, and then I will fall as if I had been running for a long time. So, maybe it is me instead of God? _

_The few times before I became bed-ridden, the Missus has tried helping me by coming with me, but each time, she had to support then eventually carry me. If she didn't, I would find myself collapsing from exhaustion. Nowadays, the Missus goes to the market in my stead, and in seeing this, the Master keeps commenting sharply on how frail I have become. _

_When the Missus does not work in my stead, she comes to check on me, and with her constant visits to my room, I am sure that the Missus is worrying too much about my health. I think it's only exhaustion. After all, the Master was always working me to death! This is just the toll he has to pay!_

_Ah, but bless the poor Missus. She truly is a kind lady. Every time I wake up, she is right next to me to make sure I am eating and still able to move my arms and legs. Not only that, but she is also always badgering the Master to send for a doctor. "What good will that do?" is his consistent reply. _

_Oh, and since we are on the topic of the Missus, allow me to tell you what I heard the other day! Not too long ago, I had woken up from another long sleep, however, when I opened my eyes, the Missus was not there. I began to grow worried, so I got out of bed to check the house despite my fatigued state. After searching for some time, she ended up being in the study, however I did not open the door. On the other side, I could hear the Master and Missus speaking in hushed voices._

_Whilst I was standing there I decided to press my ear to the door even though my legs were shaking and my head began to spin again from all the walking. (You are probably scolding me in your head right now, telling me to get back to bed and that eavesdropping on the Master and Missus is unmannerly. Even so, I do not regret what I did!) _

_As I was listening, I heard them say that "The three of us have to leave this house soon. The Evangelical Union will reach here quickly, and we must flee to safer areas." They continued on, saying that they had to give up on waiting for you to come back._

_At that point, I couldn't bear it anymore and opened the doors as hard as I could to stop them._

_Ah, but when I look back on the event, I feel bad for scaring the Master and Missus. They really did look frightened, and if I were not sick, I understand that I would have been horribly punished. However, I could not help but feel a small sliver of pride when I saw the guilty look on their faces at the time. They really must have felt guilty about trying to leave you behind. After all, only the desperate and dishonorable leave behind family. I know you believe in that as well, don't you? After all, that is why you left us, right? For your brother?_

_But dare I say that the Master and the Missus have been so unfair to you ever since you left! I have been trying to tell them that just because you do not live in this house anymore does not mean that you do not belong with us! We cannot move, and I will make sure that we won't!_

_I do feel a slight pang of guilt, however. Whenever I start to think about staying, I start to feel selfish. Is that alright? Because not only is leaving unfair to you, but it is also unfair to me as well. What if I do not want to leave? Also, what would you do if you found us gone? The bad consequences would only pile up, so I can only hope that the Master and Missus will listen to me._

_Sometimes, I think of the idea that since I am always sleepy, I can spend more time in bed, and since I spend more time in bed, I'll get heavier. After all, I always feel heavier when I am in bed. Maybe if I get heavy enough, the Master and the Missus will not be able to carry me to wherever we are supposed to run away to._

_Oh, but then I think "what if they do find a way to move me?" What would you do if you found us gone? _

_Would you run away?_

_No, you can't. Please, out of all the things to do, do not run away. I promise you that if you do, you'll die. Honest to God you will! You'll die and perish slowly from disease that foreign lands exhale! Oh, please, do not leave as my brother did._

_._

_I took a small break from writing and at this current moment I am laughing! Can you tell that I am? I'm gripping the paper hard as I giggle, and when you get it, I hope that you can see the crinkles from my sudden fit of laughter! _

_I guess I am laughing because I am trying to think what kind of muse "living" would be. If living was a muse, she would be a very meticulous yet mischievous one, don't you agree? She would be unfair, yet humorous in doing her bidding, killing off the people who put their trust into her._

_How is life unfair? _

_Well, when I think about it, I think I can give you a few examples. Can I? When I finally hoped to hear from my brother again, I immediately receive the news that he has died, that he died with seething hatred for Papa, for Mama, and finally for me. When I start to finally understand what a good household feels like, I am told that we have to leave! _

_Right as you start to love me, you finally got the chance to go to war and leave me, and right as I began to love you, I have to accept the fact that you are most likely dead!_

_Ah, I'm laughing too hard. Why is the act of living so tricky? It's all so incredibly beautiful and careful in building up the lives of people who just want to be happy, but in the end, living singles out and finally tears down the one and only shaky pillar supporting the person's stability. I wonder how much humor living as a muse would find a person's life crumbling and falling between his fingers. It's so sad, so sad that I have to laugh!_

_Ah, I can't breathe! My head is spinning too much. I think I am getting sleepy again._

_The Missus says that I am working myself too hard with writing all day, and that I should rest or else it will be the death of me. (I was wondering whether or not she was using it in the metaphorical or literal sense.) However, after sleeping for another two days, I have decided that I want to write my last words to you before it gets tiring to just lift up my arms. Would that be alright? _

_First, I regret that I never had the chance say goodbye to anybody. (In people's last words, do they not write down what they regret?)_

_I regret that I never got to say goodbye and apologize to Mama despite my knowing that I caused her as well as my brother and Papa so much pain. I should have asked for her forgiveness when I prayed in the church. I regret that I never got to say goodbye to Papa as I watched him disappear from the carriage on its way to the Master's estate. I should have told him that I loved him even if he did send me away. _

_I regret that I never got to say goodbye to my brother before he jumped from the window with a look of hatred and died on foreign lands. I should have pulled him back, embraced him, and told him that it was him that Mama, Papa, and everyone loved most, not me._

_I regret that I can never say goodbye to you. I should have pulled you back when you kissed me and left, should have wrapped my arms around your chest and thrown a fit._

_I wonder if it was my destiny to suffer as much as I am right now._

_I really do think that this is all fate's fault. It's fate's fault that I never got to say goodbye to any of you. Yes, that's right. Even though my vocation is to suffer, to feel guilty, I will not accept it!_

_I refuse to say goodbye to you. _

_You see, it is not a matter of saying goodbye to you face to face! I outright deny the mere thought of our bodies finding this so called "peace" in death whether our souls go to Heaven or Hell because this is insane._

_This is insane!_

_Papa always preached at the Mass that life was supposed to be good, and that life was a gift from God, that it ended with a feeling of fulfillment!_

_This existence, this entire life has been nothing but loss and having that void within myself grow bigger and bigger!_

_I think that living should have gone differently._

_I think that you should have never gone to war, that your brother should have come back instead! I think that my own brother and I should have been reunited, and that he should be here now with me! Yes, he should have been happy with me because Mama should have never died._

_And, you know what else? I shouldn't be dying from sickness now. I should be happy! I should be walking just fine, and I should be cradled to Mama's breast, sleeping as my brother naps beside us! _

_The Missus shouldn't have been cursed with an empty womb. The Master and she should have their own happy household with a child to take care of instead of them being alone, instead of weeping over others' children and their own unhappiness._

_You should be happy, too! You should be with you brother, and I should be with you, holding your hand, and teaching you how to paint._

_No. No goodbyes, not yet at least._

_How about this? How about I not die just yet? _

_I will live on in my body and wait for you, wait until I can properly see you again. I'm sure God will grant an exception to something like this, right? Life always works out in the end, right? So now, instead of "goodbye" we can say "until we meet again!" _

_Oh, please, come back soon and hurry!_

* * *

With a hollow thump, he closed the book tightly. Even after reading the collection of letters for a second time, the man found that his mind still pleasantly spun from the last words of the ill girl.

"How scary and sad those words were," the man thought. However, even if the words were terrifying, there was still something behind the dying girl's will which he thought was admirable. Maybe it was how strongly and desperately she grasped at the thought of happiness in her final hour. After a moment of thinking, he realized that a girl who lived in 1618 had a way of going about life that put his own character to shame.

The man's smile grew wider. Who knew that a young girl caught in between a war so long ago could share the same problems as he? Was it coincidence? He giggled lightly to himself.

Deciding that his head had enough of the "unraveling of the universe" thoughts for the day, the man emptied his mind as he carefully laid the cover of the book face down onto the cafe table. With a nudge from his fingertips, the book slid onto the center the table next to a sketch he had been slaving over the previous weeks.

The sketch was nearly finished. However, instead of putting the last touches on it, he had decided to read instead. Today was a "live in the now instead of the past" kind of day.

"The evenings are getting colder now," the man suddenly noticed. He guessed that it was good that he went out for coffee. The chill of autumn in New York was an interesting contrast from the summer, and he began to wonder how much longer the people of northeast Manhattan could continue wearing their "lighter outfits." With a fleeting glance, the man looked down at his own apparel.

One could say that he went overboard in comparison with some of the more drably garbed New Yorkers, but he always argued to himself that he just couldn't help it. The naturally fashionable people of his first home had already rubbed off on him.

As the man continued to think, he reached a chilled hand for the chalky cup holding his untouched coffee. As he drew the lip of the cup to his mouth, his laughably feminine, button nose could pick up the sharp and fulfilling scent of coffee that wafted to the back of his skull in a wakeful, pleasing manner.

However, when the coffee reached his lips, he stiffened.

The coffee was stale. It would seem as if he had been reading for far too long. Actually, the ornate clock on the wall indicated that it was now six o'clock in the evening. It had been two hours since his arrival.

Pulling his lips away from the cup, the man began to feel his relaxed, full lips draw into a tense grin.

"You're getting worked up over nothing!" he scolded himself. "Only someone with the mentality of a child would throw a fit over cold coffee."

Even though he thought this, he still couldn't help but think that all he wanted to do today was to get away from the apartment for hot coffee. Was a hot or at least _warm_ coffee too extravagant to ask for?

He guessed it was okay. Life was full of disappointments. The girl in the letters was right. Life wasn't too fair, was it? Her life through her letters as well as his own life through his eyes was living proof of the injustice of it all.

Taking in another sigh, the man gave an exaggerated pout and rested his head heavily in his free hand. The other continued to hold the coffee. Disappointment. Happiness. "I guess sadness really wasn't the opposite of glee," he thought as he began swirling the coffee around within its paper container.

Call it a burst of impulse or a surge of anger from a flash flood of disappointment, but in one, casual action, the man, whose legal name was Feliciano Vargas, drew his lips into a tight smile once more as he tossed the unlidded and unforgiven cup of coffee to the side. As the cup fell, Feliciano sighed with pleasure as he took in the musical slosh of liquid disappointment splattering against the stone tile.


End file.
